My Youth Romantic Comedy Is Wrong As Expected

Page 622

"No, I'm full, I don't need any more. I can't eat any more spicy food."

Hiratsuka-sensei looked at me with genuine disdain.

"You're a boy, right? Can you eat some more?"

"You can eat because you halved your portion size at the Funabashi branch! I ate a normal portion, so it's normal that I couldn't finish it."

We argued in hushed tones in the store.

"Didn't I just say in the car? Youth is about being reckless."

Even so, if I can't eat, I just can't eat!

"So this is what newbies are like... Got it. Okay, let's do this then."

The teacher pressed the button on the meal ticket vending machine and handed me the meal ticket.

"Change the noodles in the soy sauce cold soup noodles to tofu. That should make it easier to eat, since you're a boy."

"How spicy?"

"This is called non-spicy ramen, so it's not spicy at all. 0% spiciness."

I was surprised by that number.

"You even have this kind of ramen?"

"The Funabashi branch also has it. Didn't you see the meal ticket vending machine?"

Yeah, it seems like it is, but it also seems like it isn't...

"Let's go."

As I was recalling this, Professor Hiratsuka had already taken his seat at the counter. I followed and sat down next to him. When the clerk came over, I handed him my meal ticket.

"By the way, how hot is an Arctic volcano?"

"12."

"12⁉ Uh, isn't the maximum 10?"

"There will always be something that exceeds the limit, something like a bug."

No, no, no, how can there be a bug? That's what I thought to myself, and my initial doubts turned into certainty.

"Teacher...I have a question."

"What's up?"

"You... often eat Nakamoto, right?"

The teacher stopped putting on her paper apron.

"No, this is my second time here."

"How could that be? Only a die-hard fan would get that angry when I said Nakamoto is a chain store."

"No, I just checked it first."

She feigned ignorance, and somehow produced a rubber band to tie her hair up. My gaze was drawn to the back of her neck, but this wasn't the time to look at that.

"I found it strange when we were at the Funabashi store. The way you handled the paper apron was too practiced. Someone who hadn't been there before couldn't possibly be that fast."

"I just happened to see it."

Perhaps. But what I'm about to say is no coincidence. One must have had some feelings about this shop to do something like that.

"I don't believe this is a coincidence. From the beginning of the journey, you've been calling Nakamoto 'Mr. Nakamoto.' Isn't that a bit too much respect for this shop? What's going on here?"

"Just like using honorifics when meeting someone for the first time."

This teacher is going to continue playing dumb. Lying to students like this is ethically wrong.

"Let's assume it's as you said. But what about when I said I couldn't eat two bowls of ramen? You said, 'So this is what a newbie is like...' implying you're not a newbie yourself!"

After hearing my reasoning, Ms. Hiratsuka remained unmoved. She took something out of her shoulder bag and called to the shop assistant.

"Excuse me, could you please stamp this?"

"See, they come here often!"

The teacher completely ignored me and asked the shop assistant to stamp the document for her.

"When we went to the new restaurant near the station that I planned to eat at, you yourself said, 'Having a pre-paid card means I've been to that restaurant!'"

Ms. Hiratsuka squinted at me, and I couldn't figure out her intentions.

"Hiratsuka-sensei, you should admit it now!"

Silence descends upon us.

"...Would you laugh at an older woman for getting a thrill by eating spicy ramen alone?"

“…Huh?”

"Hachiman, would you say things like my relatives, 'Instead of wasting time eating spicy ramen alone, why not go somewhere where you can meet men more easily,' or 'I really don't know if the 'spicy' radical on the left of the character for 'spicy' refers to spiciness or sourness—'?"

Her expression was filled with anger and sadness.

Then it dawned on me. So that's how it is. Was the teacher being ridiculed by relatives for her love of spicy food, and blamed for not being married yet? That's why… she couldn't help but take this action.

It means I accidentally stepped on her landmine. I need to think of a way to deal with it.

"Uh... I don't quite understand... but I think Hiratsuka-sensei, who can express what he likes and has a straightforward personality, is a good adult."

"...You've got a pretty good way of comforting people."

"No, it's not just comforting words... it's the truth."

Hiratsuka-sensei's expression turned to surprise, then she suddenly smiled.

"Hehe, it's quite helpful to hear this from Hachiman, who doesn't seem to be very good at telling the truth. Thanks."

"No, there's nothing to thank me for."

This face, which easily makes people think "it looks like it's a liar" or "it doesn't seem like it's telling the truth," improved the atmosphere for the first time.

"Excuse me for interrupting, this is cold soy sauce noodle soup with tofu instead of noodles, and also includes an Arctic volcano!"

Halfway through our conversation, the staff member enthusiastically served us ramen.

My cold soy sauce soup noodles were replaced with a tofu version. The broth was clear and brownish, topped with what appeared to be freshly stir-fried, crisp vegetables, and tofu was visible at the bottom. It was practically a mini hot pot.

More importantly, it's Hiratsuka-sensei's ramen.

The bean sprouts were piled up as high as a mountain, with Mapo Tofu drizzled next to them, probably intended to resemble lava, perfectly matching the name of the Arctic volcano. On top were baby radishes, perhaps to create a refreshing mountaintop feel. With such a spectacular appearance, it's understandable why the spiciness level was set at the bizarrely high 12.

The teacher watched and rotated his right shoulder a few times.

"When I'm stressed, I really need to eat spicy food. Okay, I'm starting."

After she finished speaking, she immediately started drinking the soup, and I followed suit and started eating as well.

Just like before, I enjoyed the soy sauce cold ramen in front of me in the order of soup first, then vegetables, and I was amazed that the non-spicy soup could be so rich. The fresh and crisp vegetables, as Mr. Hiratsuka had said, had a completely different flavor from the vegetables at the previous restaurant, making it feel like I wasn't eating at the same place. Perhaps it was because the staff had just cooked them. If there was one thing in common, it was "delicious."

This time, I finished the smaller portion first. I glanced at Ms. Hiratsuka; she was happily pushing down a volcano, munching on noodles and bean sprouts. Strangely, the way she looked gave me the illusion that she was hiking.

Not long after, the teacher finished eating.

"Thank you for coming!"

The shop assistant's voice came from behind us, and we walked out of the store.

Thank you for your hospitality today.

"No, I should be thanking you."

After that, the teacher drove me to my neighborhood.

"I'm quite happy."

"Heh, Hachiman's frankness is a bit disgusting."

That's a really harsh statement.

"Oh, it would be so good if you could just tell me what you really think. Thank you for keeping me company today."

The teacher looked refreshed; was it because he had just sweated?

"Ahhh—"

Ms. Hiratsuka sighed loudly from the driver's seat.

"Why the sudden sigh? A happy ending is so close, yet you let out such a heavy sigh. I feel like something's going to happen."

"No, I'm just imagining it. I wish there were people like you from my generation—"

"Adults like me... certainly wouldn't be very presentable."

Upon hearing my answer, Hiratsuka-sensei burst out laughing.

"I think so too. Not working at the workplace and talking badly about a bunch of people at parties, that's not like being an adult at all."

Huh, you don't deny it? I think you're just talking badly about me.

"It doesn't matter, it's fine this way. There's no need to force yourself to be an adult. Just continue being yourself and keep moving forward."

"...Your evaluation criteria for me today are quite lenient (Note 35)."

"Yeah. It's probably because I just ate something spicy."

Hiratsuka-sensei looked ahead.

"About the ramen you made after graduation."

"Yes."

"Could we postpone it a little longer?"

Postponing it? Does she mean she needs to check which ramen shop is involved?

"Ramen is best enjoyed on its own. However, you might not know that it can also be used to end a cocktail party."

"A cocktail party?"

"Let's go eat ramen together when you can drink alcohol. Bye!"

She waved happily and drove away. At that moment, even without the age difference—no, even with the age difference—the teacher's expression seemed very refreshing to me, and it even made my heart flutter.

As the saying goes, you can earn three coins if you get up early.

But I received more than just three coins; I also received a priceless smile.

...I should get up earlier tomorrow too.

Finish

Short Story Collection 2 ONPARADE: My Thoughts on the Healthy Ye Ba

Author: Fumiaki Maruto

"Huh? What? You've started smoking?"

"Yeah, only when we're drinking. Is that strange?"

"Uh, no..."

Strange, very strange.

This is so weird. I really wanted to immediately and shockingly retort, "You're over twenty years old, don't you know cigarettes are bad for your health?!" What? We're Conte Leonardo, you know. The author might not even have been born yet. (Note 36)

"I was just about to ask, you don't smoke, so why are you here?"

"...Uh, well, something came up."

However, given the conversation taking place here, the question posed by this refined-looking man is clearly more reasonable.

After all, this is the smoking area outside the izakaya (Japanese pub). In this era of widespread smoking bans, it's the only oasis where persecuted nicotine addicts can generously share this small ashtray.

It's not a place for someone like me who can't find a spot in a bustling store with a "private for today" sign, trying to blend into the smoke and hide.

Let's leave that aside for now. It's best to keep an eye out for writers who smoke. Cases abound of writers who disappear from solitary confinement with the killer line, "I'm out of cigarettes, so I can't write," and are never read again. People think, "In that case, we should prepare a smoking room for him," but make absolutely no progress—no one can compete. Write a little, work a little, publish a book regularly. Even a thin volume would be fine.

"Never mind. How are you doing these days?"

"……good."

"It means you're doing well, quite happy, and rather fortunate."